


Pretty Lies

by LadyBelleBaelish



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBelleBaelish/pseuds/LadyBelleBaelish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The affair had been going on for months</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Lies

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a crossover, but I wanted it to be a bit of surprise

“Does your incompetence know no bounds?!” Baelish snapped at his students. Their most recent papers had been complete garbage. Sometimes he truly loathed his profession.

The bell rang and his students scurried out of the room. The professor collapsed in his chair. He rubbed his temples. _Only one more class_ he told himself.

“Excuse me, professor,” Sansa Stark’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. He glanced around and made sure the students had left. When he was sure they had, he flashed her his infamous smirk.

“What can I help you with, sweetling?”

Sansa leaned over the desk and he could just see down her shirt. “I don’t think you graded those papers fairly.” He raised an eyebrow at his teaching assistant.

“Is that so?” Baelish stood and moved around his desk. His arms wrapping around her waist in the process. Sansa’s arms encircled his neck and she leaned closer.

“No I think that-“ A knock on the door had them jumping out of each other’s arms. Sansa scurried back to her desk and started to gather her things.

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t know anyone was still in here.” A sweet voice filled the room. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.” Sansa’s teeth clenched. The woman’s voice held no hint of sarcasm or malice, she wasn’t insinuating anything, and she was truly hoping she hadn’t interrupted. Sansa hated her. And why wouldn’t she? The redhead may have been Petyr’s mistress, but the other woman was his _wife._

Professor Belle French taught English Literature at Westeros University. She was not a very tall woman, barely coming in at five foot five even in her three-inch heels, but she was absolutely beloved by the student body. Not only was she an absolute _beauty_ with her bright blue eyes and dark wavy hair, but Belle was as sweet as could be. There was not a mean bone in her body. Not that she was a pushover. Sansa had seen her yelling at Coach Jones after he’d made some cruel comment about Professor Gold’s limp.

It had been a great surprise to everyone when it was discovered that she married to the mysterious Professor Baelish. Sansa had found out shortly before their affair had begun. She wondered _why_ he would cheat on the beautiful Belle French, but whenever she asked he always brushed the comment off.

“Of course not, darling,” Baelish crossed the room and kissed his wife on the cheek. “What do you need?”

“Oh nothing I just wanted to see how your class went,” Belle smiled up at him and entwined their hands. It made the red head want to vomit as Baelish offered her a sickeningly sweet smile. “Hello Sansa,” She turned to her husband’s lover and smiled.

“Professor French,” She managed a nod. “I’ll see you next week, Professor B.” She lied. Sansa knew that Petyr had something up his sleeve for this weekend. The thought made her smile and she gave the couple one last glance before departing.

~~

Belle wasn’t an idiot. She knew what was going on between her husband and Sansa Stark. She’d known for months, though she had to give them credit. They were discreet. Even someone who looked closely would come to the conclusion that either he liked her a little more than he should or she had a harmless little crush.

Just as she was rounding the corner she saw Professor Gold drop all of his paperwork. Belle rushed over and started picking them up.

“There’s no need Professor French,” Gold said not unkindly.

“I don’t mind,” She replied, gathering the papers in her hand. Gold offered her a smile wishing he could bend down and help her. A moment later Belle stood and handed him the items.

“You’re truly an angel, Professor,”

Belle blushed and looked down. “I’d prefer it if you called me Belle, we’ve known each other long enough.”

“Then I suppose I should ask you to call me Rumpelstiltskin, but I’m not terribly keen on the idea.”

Belle laughed. “You’re name is Rumpelstiltskin?”

“Yes my parents had a cruel sense of humor.”

“There are worse names,” She reminded him.

“I suppose you are right…” The two just stood there for a moment, Belle studying her shoes, Gold studying her. He didn’t care to admit how fond he was of the young English professor, but there was something about her that was downright enchanting. He wondered if Baelish knew how lucky he was.

“If I may Professor-Belle,” Her eyes flew up to meet his. “I would like to ask you, that is-“

“Are you ready to go?” Baelish appeared as if out of nowhere. His arm went around Belle’s waist and Gold found himself clenching his cane a little too tightly. “Hello Gold,” He smirked.

“Baelish,” The older man nodded.

“If was lovely talking to you, Professor,” Belle beamed before pulling her husband down the hallway. Gold watched as the disappeared. Baelish said something and Belle laughed.

He wondered vaguely how a man like that had ever gotten an angel like Belle to fall in love with him.

~~

Their apartment was rather large. Belle had wanted something small and cozy, but Petyr had insisted. She had caved after he promised that the largest room would be turned into a library.

“Will you make the tea?” Belle asked. Baelish nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

Belle went into the library and pulled her first edition copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ off the shelf. She smiled widely at it. The book had been a wedding present from Petyr. She still didn’t like to think about how much it must’ve cost.

Petyr entered the library a few minutes later and found his wife curled up in her favorite chair. He smirked.

“Your tea, my lady,”

Without looking up, Belle motioned for him to set it on the table. Petyr chuckled and took a seat in the chair next to his wife. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Sansa.

_Mockingbird. Eight O’ Clock. Saturday._

She responded positively a few moments later. Petyr hid his smirk. The Mockingbird was his club and was the best place for the two of them to carry out their affair. Sometimes he would venture to her apartment, but it was far too risky for her to come here.

“How was your day?” Belle asked suddenly, setting her book down and picking up the teacup.

“Aside from my students proving themselves to be idiots, very good. And yours?”

Belle laughed. “Not nearly as eventful as yours, but it was nice.”

They fell into silence. Slowly, Belle picked her book up and Petyr went back to his phone. Both of them trying to remember when exactly their marriage had started to fall apart.

The pair had met when she was still in college. Belle didn’t have a friend in the town. _A beauty, but a funny girl_ was what people used to say about her. They’d collided, quite literally, one day on campus because Belle was crossing the street while reading. A car had almost rammed her, but Petyr had pulled her out of the way at the last second.

They’d been friends ever since. Belle had been with him when he’d heard of Cat’s engagement to Eddard Stark. She’d let him drink and rant the whole night. Despite the killer headache he’d had the next morning, Petyr was forever grateful that she’d stopped him from doing anything too rash. A fate she’d been unable to prevent at the engagement party. As a childhood friend of Cat’s he’d been invited. He’d asked Belle to go with him, but she had declined, something she still regretted. Petyr had gotten so drunk he’d started a fight with Ned’s older, much larger, brother. One broken beer bottle later, Petyr was scared for life. Belle had rushed to the hospital to find an unconscious Petyr and a sobbing Lysa Tully. Oh what fun _that_ had been. Lysa had screamed at Belle, saying that she wasn’t anything to Petyr, calling her a whore. Luckily the nurses had intervened before it got physical and they dragged a hysterical Lysa away. Belle had stayed the night at the hospital. Petyr proposed a few weeks later.

“Petyr,” Belle looked over at her husband. “I have to tell you something…” Petyr raised an eyebrow at his wife and she bit her lip nervously. “I’m pregnant.” She muttered, unsure as to what his reaction would be. They’d discussed children once after they’d first been married. They had been so young they had decided it would be best to wait a few years.

“Belle that’s wonderful,” Petyr beamed and leaned over to kiss her softly.

“R-really you want this?” She was slightly shocked.

“Of course,” He lied easily. There had been a point when he had wanted kids. Perhaps he still did, but there was a nagging voice in the back of his head saying he wanted a certain redhead to be the mother.

~~

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my computer for months and I only just rediscovered it. I considered writing more and making it a one-shot, but then I decided why not make a 3/4 chapter story?  
> I discovered the Belle/Petyr ship late one night in the very depths of tumblr. I like it though. For those who don't know, Belle and Gold are from the tv show Once Upon a Time--which I love. I like her being the person who throws a wrench in Petyr and Sansa's relationship instead of Lysa because Belle's just so wonderful and I could honestly see a younger Petyr having fallen for her. Even Petyr now maybe would go for her. In any case, this probably won't be Belle's only appearance in one of my Petyr/Sansa fics.   
> Give me your thoughts.


End file.
